Tobi Lim Sonstroem was a friend of mine from high school. Always a spirited and bitterly sarcastic personality, Tobi never failed to make me laugh every time we were together. I recently found out about two weeks ago, that Tobi committed suicide on Locust Walk in the middle of Temple Campus. Months before, we had made plans to hang out, and go to the Otakan Anime Convention in MD because he loved anime. I always remembered he was one of the most talented anime illustrators I had ever met. That was one of the things I admired so much about him. We were never what you would call close friends, but I always felt we were very compatible in terms of our interests and personalities, and every time we met up, it was like leaving off where we had finished the last time. So I wanted to write a letter to my dear friend Tobi. Even if you don't know him, I hope that you can all keep his family, and his closest friends in prayer as they deal with the aftermath of his death.
Dear Tobi,
It's hard to believe that you're actually gone. It's been about two weeks now (really that long?) and it feels just as fresh as the first time I heard. When I first heard from Melissa (mutual high school friend who graduated 3/4 years ahead of us), I just sat in shock in my car. I was on the way to my small group for church, and I remember I couldn't even fathom it, and I was just so dazed, confused, shocked, upset, that I remember doing at least 5 U-Turns because I kept going the wrong direction, or driving past the point I needed to go. My GPS kept yelling at me to turn the other way.
My initial reaction was just so full of shock I didn't have time to experience pain, or sadness. Until I realized you were really gone, I almost thought my heart had gone numb, and that my soul had lost its feeling. When it finally dawned on me, I couldn't stop crying--partially blaming myself, partially just thinking, what in the world could've caused you to doubt and give up the way you did? What kind of dark place had you entered into that wouldn't allow you to come out thinking that there was more to life, and that the only solution was suicide?
My years of knowing Tobi were filled with sarcasm, and hilarity. He was one of the few people I knew who just stood so courageously in the face of everyone I knew taunting them with live-action evil "muahahahas". It was certainly a sight to behold and he literally was the perfect anime in real life. If I could draw an anime cartoon, Tobi would be the penultimate. He just needed the right giant sword, the awesome belt, and a little sidekick that would ride alongside him on a motorcyle while he used his epic vintage pistol and shot down the enemy. I couldn't imagine Tobi being any different, but I also couldn't imagine what could've caused him to give his life.
On Friday, February 10th, I attended Tobi's vigil--a candlelight encirclement of close friends, family, and those who had seen what happened, and cared to throw a voice and a thought in his direction. Even though we had met on occasions, and he always seemed so content and happy, I never knew Tobi as these people knew him. Hearing their memories of him, their happy memories with him, was so touching and so encouraging. I walked in with my friend thinking I wouldn't start crying, but by the end, I was quietly sobbing, and tears stained my face as I listened to the letters his roommates wrote to him, and the tears they cried for him. The jolly little Tobi that everyone remembered him to be was almost real in my mind as their stories of his silliness and his carefree spirit came to life.
Tobi, I wish you could have stayed to hear these people who love you so much. I wish that we could have hung out so many more times, and gone to Otakan, and dressed up as Anime characters just like you wanted. I wish that I could be the designer you always seem to think I am, and start building you that Kamen Rider costume you always asked for. I wish that I could've known you better, or reached out to you more, and stopped being "so damn busy" all the time. You were always asking me to hang out--to do karoake, to just chat and meet up. I know it's not my fault, but somehow life seems a little emptier without you in it. Furthermore, I wish that i could've shared the gospel with you one more time than the last. I wish I had pushed you to go with me to church--I wish I could've encouraged you to keep fighting and keep hoping, and keeping KNOWING that there is a God who heals the broken, who saves the lost, and who carries the hurt, and works miracles in the blind and the lame, and the sick. You are so deeply loved by all those around you, and will continue to remain in the memories of the many lives you touched, even if you didn't see it. I hope that you memory will not be forgotten.
Tobi, it is with such a heavy heart that I say farewell. I continue to hope that somewhere in that heart of yours you knew and trusted in God our Savior, but simply were not able to move past the darkness that flew in your eyes. I cannot determine that now--that is only God, but I hope that I can continue to be changed by your life and our friendship together to reach the others who are going through what you must have felt and begin to affect their lives, just as you have affected mine.
Sincerely, with much love,
Jojo
